Drowning Lessons
by Demolitionxlover77
Summary: So this is my first fanfic. Haven't really worked out the kinks or storyline to well, and haven't even introduced the characters but this is about all the kids from DP meeting with my character Crashina and her best friend Benji in a small town in the south. Sort of my take on what would happen if non supernaturals ran into them and found out what they were. Hope you like! Review!


**Drowning Lessons**

It is just after sunset, my favorite time; when the light in the sky changes from the vibrant reds and oranges that a sunset can evoke, to the muted tones of twilight. A crisp breeze blows across my face, stirring my hair and sending shivers down my spine. I sigh and turn to Benji waiting for what I'm sure he will tell me soon. Tonight, I will beat him to the chase. "We aren't that far from home," I tell him softly. Maybe this time I won't have to go back home.

"Come on, girlie. Let's get a move on it," he replies. We stand up slowly and stretch out our aching muscles, sore from our small hike out to the riverbed. It had always been our place. Somewhere that we could go to talk or to sit and watch clouds pass by. It was where we met. Reluctantly I start forward falling in step with Benji as we walk up the crooked path towards the flickering streetlights and the rest of the world.

We walk silently until we're a block from my house. I stop short of the curb. "Please," I say quietly. It's all I can get out before his arms are around me. We aren't dating, not really. But we've been close for as long as I can remember. "Crash, I know," Benji says, because he does. When we first met I had been trying to run away. I had no clue what I was doing. Without more than a bottle of water and my favorite blanket I left my home for seven years determined to make it on my own. Now at seventeen I knew better, much better.

"I promise it will only be tonight," he tells me. I only hold on tighter. A car screeches past and I tense my muscles. "Sounds like mom's home," I sigh. I let go only to be hoisted up and carried on Benji's shoulder like a slave from war. I can't help it so I laugh. He always manages to make me laugh, or smile. Or just feel better about my day. That is why he has been my only best friend.

Benji walks down the street humming some tune that sounds like a war march with me still on his shoulder. The closer we get to my house, the quieter I become, until I stop giggling completely. He sets me down in the lawn of my neighbor's house and turns to face me, eyes locking on mine. "Crashina, I promise you that we will find a way out of this together. Always, okay?" My eyes dart back and forth between his and my front door. Any moment now my mother will come out the door screaming at me and I will want to run away and never look back. "Always," I tell him. If only we believed each other.

I back away and turn just as Benji starts towards his house. Bracing myself I quickly run up the few steps to my door, open it and close it quickly. I scan the living room and head down the hall to my room. Of the few things I can say are mine in the world, the room I sleep in while I'm here is one. Not many belongings, or very expensive ones anyway. Pictures of me and Benji, a few books scattered across my room, a small bed that was meant for one but will grudgingly hold two. A dresser with half full drawers, this is what is in my room. Nothing to distinguish it from anyone else's except my pictures. They are probably the only thing in my room that I care about.

This has become a safe place for me when the river actually runs and I can't make it over to Benji's house. My mother doesn't dare touch anything here. I am glad that I finally stood up to her. Benji told me I could, I just had to find it in myself, and one day when I came home from school to find my mother digging through my drawers looking for "drugs, and birth control" I yelled. I had never done that before so I'm sure that it startled her, she fell on her bottom with a funny look on her face. When she left for the liquor store I barricaded my door, snuck out my window to Benji's house and spent the night. It was the first night I felt like I stood a chance in this world and I haven't let my mom forget it when I'm in my room.

I look for some pj's and get a towel from the cupboard by the bathroom and head in to take a shower. I need to wash these memories away. They are too dangerous for me to keep as long as I live under this roof. I don't take long, just wash my hair and body, brush my teeth and dry off. I change into my pajamas before leaving the bathroom and tip toe to my room. From how quiet the house is I think my mom has passed out from all the drinking she does when she walks through the door. Good, I can sleep.

I walk across my floor without turning on my light, I have memorized my tiny room to the point that I don't need it. The night has come on entirely and enveloped my room in inky darkness. I sit down and become caught in someone's arms. My heart races and I try to scream but before I can make a sound I hear Benji say, "Boo." I try to elbow him in the stomach and skitter out of his arms to turn on my light. "To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" I ask him in a hushed tone. He just smiles and says "Parents are out, the left a note and some money on the fridge."

I smile and sit next to him, breathing in the cool night air and the smell of my best friend, clean soap and sweat. "How long will they be gone this time?" I ask him. He shrugs then pulls out a wad of money. A couple of hundreds and some twenties unfold in his hands. "I guess it means a long time, huh? Or is some of that for bills?" I ask. It's a lot of money. More money than I could imagine myself holding. "Nah," Benji starts. "I guess they want me to take my girlfriend out or something like that. Buy her something nice," he says to me with a small grin. I laugh because we both know his parents mean me. He has never had a girlfriend and hasn't been interested in anyone but me since we became friends. Most people would find that strange, because he is two years older than me and he looks amazing.

I don't mean like magazine model amazing, but I've seen plenty of girls chase after him and get nowhere. He tells me that they are boring, or shallow, or he just doesn't find them interesting. I don't know if he tells me the truth or if he really does like me. I don't know what I would do if he did like me, as more than the best friend and sister that I have been to him since we were young. "So they gave you permission to buy me a cat," I say jokingly. Benji knows I've always wanted one, but neither of us can pinpoint why. Benji stares at me before he flies off my bed and tackles me to the floor. "Benji, no! Please don't tickle me! Ahhhhhhahahaha," I begin to laugh because I'm pinned to my floor with no escape.

Benji only tickles me more after I ask him to stop. We wrestle with each other before I am completely out of breath and Benji rolls off of me to my left. I love the closeness of him and how much we work together. I know that if we started to date everything about us would change. I'm not sure if that is what I want, but right now I don't care. Here in my room, lounging on my floor, wrapped up in Benji's arms, I feel safe. "So what do you want to do tomorrow? It's Saturday," Benji asks me as I scoot closer to rest my head on his chest and listen to him breathe. "I just want to spend it with you, Benji," I tell him. We leave it at that for the night and fall asleep on my floor. I must have been shivering because I wake up to my blanket covering both of us and my mother pounding on my bedroom door. "Get your ass up you worthless little shit! I didn't bring you into this world to take up space! You have to clean this filthy house before you go off with that no good, drop out," my mother yells through the door. Just another typical morning at my house; at least I have Benji with me already. "I'll wait outside for you," he tells me as he slips out my bedroom window.

Reluctantly I get up off my floor and place my blanket on my bed and get dressed. I head out to the kitchen to do the dishes that have piled up over the week. I scrub and wash everything in sight and even do a load of laundry before I feel like I can get away with walking out the door. Just as I am about to open it my mother comes sloshing down the hall in a racy nightgown and a tumbler full of ice and amber liquid. Just smelling her breath makes me cringe. "Where do you think you're going? I didn't say you could go anywhere," she slurs in my direction. I can't help but back away before I remember that I am seventeen. I can make my own decisions. I can take care of myself, sort of. "I'm going out. I left some food in the fridge for you if you haven't eaten it already," I tell her, inching closer to the door.

My hand closes around the knob and she steps in front of me. I can't get out unless I move her. It might sound easy, but living with someone who turns to a bottle to solve their problems makes you realize some things that you wouldn't have to at such a young age. Similar in stature and weight, my mother and I are pretty evenly matched. The advantage she has over me comes from finding her balance while drunk, if she's on her feet. Having her standing in front of the only exit that I can use without retreating to my room is more of a problem than it should be, because she must be half way through her latest bottle.

"Mom," I plead. She only stares at me and repeats her statement. "Mom, I'm going out today. It's the weekend. Maybe I'll make friends you approve of," I tell her. As if that was the issue. She just doesn't want me to have any connections outside of this house because then I have a lifeline. Something she lost a long time ago, when my father died. I was only four so I don't really remember much of him, but I like to think he was a good guy. I mean, he had to be better than my mom, right? What kind of mother just stops being a mother when her only daughter is so young? I remember my grandma coming over to take care of me a lot, but she stopped when my mom got too far into the bottle. That was when I tried to run away and met Benji.

Benji. That's what I need. I raise my voice a little more and say, "I don't care if you don't like him. He's the only friend I have in the world and you can't change that. I'm leaving right now to see if he's home. I'll be back later mom." At the moment there is a sharp knock on the door. My mother jumps back at the sudden sound, probably getting a headache. I open the door and see Benji standing on my porch. "Just the guy I was looking for," I say. "Let's go," I tell Benji and we walk across my front lawn and down the street.


End file.
